Jealous Manipulation
by Suicidal Button
Summary: Wilson gets jealous. Posessive!Wilson, Wilson/House, onesided Kutner/House


**Disclaimer: I don't own House, M.D**

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: Another one-shot (that's two today, and the end of a three-shot). Hope you enjoy!  


xX.XX.Xx

"Woman. 25. Memory loss. Pain. These lot're thinking it's a brain tumour."

Wilson didn't reply. He was far too busy glaring, in a deathly, intense way. At Kutner.

Kutner gulped, fingers moving to pull his collar out in a nervous gesture. As if he were hot. Wilson's eyes narrowed further, and the occupants of the room wondered if he could even _see _anything, or if he were just glaring blindly.

But Wilson knew exactly why Kutner had pulled his collar out. Another seductive move on House.

"Uh... why's he staring at me like that?" Kutner asked nervously. House sighed in despair. He didn't know the answer, but he could at least pretend he did. Kutner was stupid, anyway.

"Must be your dazzling good looks," he snarked. Kutner looked slightly cheerier at the compliment, and everyone but House saw the adoration in his eyes. House's attention was fixed on Wilson, however. Was always fixed on Wilson.

"Wilson?" House asked, waving his cane in front of Wilson's eyes. He couldn't be bothered to stretch his hand, and who really cared if he accidentally stabbed an eye out or something? Less glaring from Wilson if that happened.

"Hmm?" Wilson asked distractedly, instinctively responding to House's voice. House sighed, raised his cane further, and jabbed Wilson in the side of the head. Wilson cried out with pain, hand flying to the offended spot and gaze tearing away from Kutner, who looked rather relieved.

"Ow! What was that for?" Wilson complained, glare on House, who looked remarkably smug. No surprise there. House smiled at him charmingly, as if he hadn't just assaulted Wilson.

"Someone needs to knock some sense into you," House told him, matter-of-fact. Wilson shot him a wry look, hand lowering from his head and back onto the table in front of him.

"And you're, what, the person to do that?" he asked, shaking his head. "Because you're just full of sense." House nodded in agreement, and somehow managed to make it look like it was a burden.

"I try," he said, jaw clenched in determination, martyr-ship. Wilson barely resisted the urge to grab House's cane and hit him. It would serve the bastard right. But then Wilson would be hurting him and, as a good friend, Wilson would never hurt House.

Unlike some people.

"Much as we all _love_ to listen to you two bickering like an old married couple, can we get back to the subject on hand?" Taub asked, leaning forward, glaring at both House and Wilson. More Wilson than House. Taub didn't seem to like him much. The feeling was mutual.

"Oh yeah, that," House suddenly remembered, and then pointed at the scans lain on the table with his cane. "So, what do you reckon?"

Wilson looked at the scans, picking up one of them that showed the best angle. House's mere presence was distracting, but Wilson could tune it out for work – he was just _that_ good.

"Not cancer," Wilson finally confirmed, and House shot the rest of his team a smug look. Foreman sighed – he disliked House being proven right. They all hated it when House was proven right, if only because it led to more tests, more guesswork, and more smugness from House.

"See? 'Course it wasn't a tumour," Kutner said. Wilson's gaze rose from the scans to shoot him a dirty look. Kutner paled and fell back in his seat, zipping up. House made an 'ooh' sound, leaning forward eagerly. As if Wilson were about to launch himself across the table and strangle Kutner.

The idea was tempting.

"If that's all you need me for," Wilson said, standing up. He didn't like leaving House – he didn't _want _to. House was like oxygen, only much more disagreeable. Pure oxygen, maybe?

House frowned, looking away. Wilson usually jumped at the chance to stay with him, to make sure he wasn't doing anything illegal that someone would inevitably sue him for. Wilson liked to think House enjoyed it when he was around. Wishful thinking, of course.

As Wilson walked out of the office, he heard House barking orders for more tests, and then stand. The thump of a cane against the hard floor alerted Wilson to House following him, and he stopped for the man to catch up.

"What's your deal with... Kunter?" House asked – it had been a month, and he still hadn't managed to remember Kutner's name. Wilson smiled a little. If House couldn't even be bothered to remember the name, it meant he didn't particularly like him as a person.

"Just a disagreement," Wilson told House, instantly sparking the elder doctor's curiosity. In all honesty, it wasn't a disagreement – Kutner had no idea why Wilson suddenly hated him.

"A disagreement? What about?" House asked as they moved swiftly to the lifts. Wilson shot him an amused look, shaking his head. House's constant curiosity was one of the many things that attracted Wilson to the man. He may be the only person alive to think of House as adorable.

And _his_.

Wilson didn't know _why _he was so possessive with House. He'd never been so obsessed with his wives, with any girlfriend. Maybe it was because House was a guy. Maybe it was because House was the only one he'd ever felt such deep feelings for. Irritation, amusement, fury, lust.

Lo-

"Nothing, really. He's just annoyingly stupid," Wilson said. Partially true. Kutner was an idiot, God knows why House kept him around.

"Well, that's obvious," House said, looking at Wilson suspiciously. Wilson didn't react so harshly to someone just because they were stupid – he wouldn't have suffered through the countless patients he'd had over the years, some of whom had been stupid enough to smoke themselves to cancer.

"It's nothing, House. Just drop it."

Wrong thing to say.

xX.XX.Xx

Wilson paused as he passed by the gift shop's large window. He was on his way home, looking forward to another lonely night wishing he had the guts to confess to House. Wishing he didn't feel this need to manipulate the man beyond reason and _then_ proclaim his love.

House was annoyingly hard to manipulate.

"Kutner?" Wilson murmured, watching as the doctor in question browsed through the stand of flower bouquet's.

A devious thought entered his mind.

Wilson pushed down the smirk threatening to creep onto his face, and walked into the shop. A few people were looking at teddy bears or chocolate, but, due to the time, the shop was relatively empty.  
Wilson strode over to Kutner, who was picking up a bouquet of mixed, cheap looking flowers. Kutner shook his head and set it down.

"Those for House?" Wilson asked bluntly, sneaking up behind the man. Kutner jumped and let out a little squeak that had a few customers looking in their direction curiosity. Kutner had the decency to blush, while Wilson mentally laughed.

"Hou- who?" Kutner asked, fake-innocently. Wilson smiled, a soft, understanding smile. He really wanted to grin evilly, but that would give the game away.

"It's all right," Wilson said gently, and rested a hand on the confused Kutner's shoulder. Kutner stared at the hand, and then at Wilson, in something akin to horror. Wilson preened a little – he had no idea he was so scary. It was flattering. "I _know_."

"You... you know? Know what?" Kutner asked, voice rising slightly. Wilson laughed kindly, patting Kutner's shoulder. This would be easy – Kutner wasn't the most intelligent of doctors. He wouldn't know how ruthless Wilson was really being.

If House saw him now, he'd be rather tickled.

"Know about you... and House. About how you feel," Wilson said. His grip on Kutner's shoulder tightened ever so slightly, before he loosened it again – would do no good to reveal how those words got to him, how the very idea of Kutner liking what was his was making him boil inside.

Christ, the things House made him feel.

"I was a little uncomfortable with the thought of you... and House," Wilson continued. It was a half truth- the idea of Kutner and House together made him want to punch Kutner's lights out. But not for the reasons Kutner would think. "I was... angry. But, after thinking about it, I think you'd be good for him, you know? House really needs someone like you."

Kutner nodded, suddenly seeming more relaxed, at ease. Wilson's smile broadened slightly. This was pitiful, really. He wished he had a challenge. A challenge like House.

"Thanks. I... I really like him, y'know?" Kutner said, clasping a hand on Wilson's, which still resting on his shoulder. Wilson nodded.

"He is... charming," he replied. Understatement – House had a raw magnetism, and everyone in a fifty mile radius was drawn to him. It was inevitable.

To distract himself from his thoughts, Wilson turned to the flowers, surveying them. House hated flowers of all kind. House hated romance, hated corny love gifts. Valentine's day made him physically ill.

Wilson reached for a bouquet of red roses, six in total, and gave them to Kutner. "He really likes red roses. Underneath that hard exterior lies a romantic soul."

Kutner nodded, believing Wilson's bullshit. House didn't even _have_ a soul, let alone a romantic one.

xX.XX.Xx

"Oh my God," House groaned as he walked into his private office, and saw what was awaiting him at his desk. Behind him trailed his team and Wilson, who'd been nearly stalking him since he got into the building. He had to see House's reaction.

House turned to him suddenly, and Wilson blinked confusedly under House's laughing gaze. Oh no, what was House going to do? And why was he watching Wilson so intently?

House picked up the roses and... and _smelled _them. Took a deep breath, lowered the roses, and sighed, tossing his head back. Wilson's jaw fell open, and he was fairly certain he wasn't the only one. Kutner looked star-struck.

"I love roses," House said, managing to sound surprised, excited. Wilson felt the need to curl up under his desk and cry. What was House _doing_? "Wonder who sent 'em?" he checked for a note, and found none. Kutner wasn't brave enough. "No note. _Shame_."

House set the roses on his desk, _caressing _them lovingly. Wilson forcibly closed his mouth as he recovered. This... this was... surely not...

House was just joking, right?

Wilson looked to House imploringly. House quirked his eyebrows in confusion, as if he didn't know what Wilson was trying to ask him.

_ Underneath that hard exterior lies a romantic soul._

No, it was just a game. House loved games, he was just playing games, right? Right?

xX.XX.Xx

"Dr Wilson!" Wilson slowed down at the unwelcome voice, rolling his eyes before he turned to the person who'd just called him.

Kutner stopped in front of him, panting slightly, as if he'd just ran a marathon. Wilson calmly waited for Kutner to recover slightly, even though he wanted to drop-kick the man.

"Thank you," Kutner finally said, clapping Wilson on the shoulder. Wilson felt violated. "Thank you so much. You were right... he _is _a romantic."

Wilson nodded, forcing a stiff smile onto his face. House wasn't a romantic, couldn't be a romantic. Hated romance in all it's forms. Wilson remembered, when he was young and foolish, buying a box of chocolates for House. He'd left them anonymously on the man's desk.

House had given them to some kid patient he'd had, back in the days when House had a little bit of humanity left in him.

"What... what do you think I should do next?" Kutner asked quietly, leaning closer to him, as if the people passing were actually interested in their conversation. Wilson pushed down a sneer, and subtly backed away from Kutner. "Should I confess?"

"No, no!" Wilson said immediately. Kutner shot him a confused look, and Wilson gulped, trying to get his calm back. When it came to House, his calm nature was always shredded. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Because he couldn't be sure House would say no.

"But... he liked the flowers," Kutner said, confused. Wilson gulped – looks like the situation was getting more challenging. He suddenly didn't want challenging. Why did House have to screw everything up?

"He might have thought they were from a female. You've no idea of knowing if he's gay," Wilson said gently. Wilson, however, did know. House had kissed him – not just once, but several times. Admittedly, he'd been drunk, drugged up or near death on every occasion. But it didn't stop Wilson from being hopeful.

And he would make House gay if it turned out he wasn't. Somehow.

"But you're his best friend. Surely you know?" Kutner said, somewhat desperately. Wilson scoffed – House had _never_ confided in him about anything.

"Does he look like the type to share?" Wilson asked snarkily, and then sighed – he had to keep his cool. Kutner was too sensitive for him to be sarcastic and discouraging. As it was, Kutner's face fell slightly. Damn.

"Well, how do I found out?" he demanded. Wilson had to admire the man's determination. Stupid to the bone, but at least he was determined. Wilson could get him to do anything he wanted... now there was a thought...

After running through many different scenarios Wilson could induce, from Kutner turning up naked at work to 'peering' very obviously at House when the man took a wizz, he decided to settle on something safe. He didn't like Kutner, but he didn't want him getting beat up or fired.

"I think I have a plan..."

xX.XX.Xx

Eyebrows flew up into hairlines as Kutner stepped into the office the next day. Wilson was, once again, hanging around. He was fast becoming a permanent fixture, not that anyone minded – most of the team liked Wilson, and he was a good doctor. And of course, House could direct his sarcasm at someone without hurting feelings too bad. Wilson was used to it.

"Ookay," Taub murmured, averting his eyes down to his paperwork in an attempt not to stare incredulously at Kutner, which everyone else was doing.

Wilson mentally smirked.

Kutner was wearing... revealing clothes. Tight, clinging clothes, in fact. He had donned a tight white vest-top that was plastered to his chest – which was all right, but not top-notch – and _leather trousers _that moulded to his arse, which wasn't nearly as good as Wilson's. His white doctor's coat was folded over an arm.

Wilson smugly turned to House, wanting to preserve this reaction in his memory forever.

Only to find House _eyeing Kutner up_.

Wilson's mouth fell open, finally joining the expression of everyone else as House ran his eyes slowly up Kutner, resting on his face. Kutner flushed a brilliant red, and then grinned at Wilson. Wilson shakily gave him a smile back, wanting to stab Kutner with a scalpel.

Why was House eyeing _Kutner _up? Why Kutner? Why not Wilson?

Kutner was flabby and weird and stupid, for God's sake! Wilson was well-built and cool and intelligent.

House turned to him, expression confused. Wilson realised he'd been staring rather desperately at House, and tore his gaze away, crossing his arms. He resisted the urge to huff sulkily. Barely.

xX.XX.Xx

"I think he likes me," Kutner whispered as he leant over a clipboard. They were in the clinic. Wilson had been hunting down House, who had been practically locked in a patient's room by Cuddy in order to fill in his clinic duty hours.

Kutner had spied him and quickly dragged him to an empty room, looking excited and hopeful and annoying. His garb had been covered by his coat lest Cuddy see it and fire him on the spot, which Wilson had, admittedly, sort of been aiming for.

"What should I do? What should I do?" Kutner asked, suddenly going from happy to panicking. He began pacing the room, nervously fiddling with the clip at the top of the clipboard. Wilson sighed and sat down on the bed in the middle of the room. Great.

"I, erm..." Wilson started, and then stopped. Could he really risk giving Kutner any more ideas? What if they turned out to _work_, and gave Kutner even more hope. False hope, of course. House couldn't like Kutner. It just went against the laws of nature.

House didn't like _anyone_.

"I think I should confess," Kutner said decisively. Wilson's head snapped up and his eyes widened. Oh fuck.

"No, wait," Wilson called as Kutner began to exit the room with the intention of finding House and _confessing_. Doing something Wilson didn't have the courage to do. All those years of Wilson's careful manipulation, careful plotting, were unravelling, all because of that imbecile.

"Just... give it a few days. See what happens – you might be able to get a better idea of what he feels," Wilson said. They both had a very clear idea of House's feelings, but hopeful Kutner was stupid enough to fall for his plan.

Kutner nodded, and Wilson sagged in relief. "Yeah, that's a good idea. Thanks, doctor Wilson. You always know exactly what to do."

Wilson was too busy plotting to feel any guilt – not that he often felt guilt for his manipulations anyway.

Wilson had time. He had a couple of days, at least. Maybe he could interest House in someone else, anyone else, someone he'd get bored with. Just not Kutner.

xX.XX.Xx

"So, Thirteen's pretty nice, isn't she?" Wilson asked as House lounged on his settee in Wilson's office. House looked up from where he was trying to poke the ceiling with his cane.

"Thirteen?" he repeated curiously. Wilson nodded, continuing with his paperwork. He needed to get House interested in someone who wouldn't hold his attention for long. House would have too much fun with Kutner – he was stupid in a way that House loved to exploit.

"Yeah, she's, erm, hot," Wilson said awkwardly. He didn't have eyes for anyone but House, so it was slightly hard for him to care about her appearance. But she was boring, drippy and intelligent. House wouldn't like her for long.

"She's all right," House conceded, looking interested. In Thirteen or the reason behind Wilson's random observation, he didn't know. Either way, it was a start.

"I think she's in to you," Wilson continued, resisting the urge to wince. Had he just sounded like a thirteen year old girl? House's smirk confirmed it.

"Ooh, really?" he asked, leaning forward and lowering his voice. "You really think she might like me? I'm _so_ crushing on her, you see."

"Shut up," Wilson muttered, scowling. House, looking satisfied, didn't say anything more, lying back down on the sofa and going back to trying to reach the ceiling. Didn't the man have anything better to do?

"She's interesting, intelligent," Wilson finally said, after a few minutes of silence. House snorted, causing Wilson to look up, gaze meeting House's.

He frowned; what was that look House was giving him? It seemed so... misplaced, strange. He'd never seen it before.

"I've got my eyes on someone else," House told him seriously. Wilson blinked, fighting down desperation. House had succumbed to Kutner's whiles! He was doomed.

"Right, well, good," Wilson told him. "Lucky girl." He went back to his paperwork. House rolled his eyes.

xX.XX.Xx

"I'm gonna do it," Kutner said, voice hushed and nervous. They were sitting in the main office. House sat in his own, playing his age-old game of balancing a ball in the curve of his cane.

Wilson sighed. There was nothing he could do. Stalling any more would make Kutner suspicious, and he'd been unable to convince House to _not _like Kutner.

Maybe Kutner would be good for him – he wouldn't let himself slip out of House's life. He wasn't intelligent enough to know when House used him, or when House was done with him. He'd probably take care of House, too.

"All right. Good luck," Wilson said quietly. Kutner shakily nodded – he looked like he was about to faint. Wilson watched as he stood and carefully made his way to House's office, trying not to trip on his unsteady legs.

Wilson wished he would trip, and hit his head, and die.

He tore his gaze away from Kutner, only to jump in shock. Foreman was staring straight at him in a rather scary way.

"Either you like Kutner, which I'm fairly certain you don't, or you're in to House," Foreman told him. Wilson gulped – he hadn't been that obvious, he simply hadn't. He was the master of criminal subtlety. So how had Foreman figured it out?

"Neither. I'm not gay," Wilson said, laughter in his voice, as if the mere idea were ridiculous. Foreman gave him a knowing look, and Wilson bristled. "Three wives," he reminded.

"Yeah, three wives. All of which you've left. I'm smelling a conspiracy in the air," Foreman countered. Wilson gulped and turned his attention away, to House's office, where Kutner stood at House's desk. House was fixing him with a curious, slightly lustful look. Wilson groaned.

"For what it's worth, House has no interest in Kutner," Foreman said after a moment. Wilson shot him a glare. That was stupid – House had been showing nothing _but_ interest in Kutner. He'd even _slapped Kutner's arse_.

"Just watch," Foreman said, nodding at the muted exchange in House's office. Wilson grudgingly turned his attention back to the scene, if only to prove Foreman wrong.

Kutner said something, looking unsteady. House sighed deeply and ran a hand across his mouth, over his stubble. A conflicted gesture. Fuck, he was _conflicted_ – he must really like Kutner.

He said something, paused, and continued. He seemed to be slightly... irritated. Kutner's face crumpled. _Crumpled._

House finished whatever he was saying and turned away to continue his game, rolling his eyes in exasperation. Kutner stood there for a moment, looking devastated, and then turned to Wilson. He shot him a glare of contempt, and Wilson's face morphed into confusion, brows furrowing. What on earth?

Kutner stormed out of the office, into the hallway, and strode away. House didn't pay attention to him leaving.

Finally, Wilson turned back to Foreman, who looked smug. It seemed he'd adopted more than knowledge from House. Wilson scowled at him – what did Foreman know? _Nothing, that's right_.

xX.XX.Xx

The elevator door closed with a ding, and House looked to the ceiling. The atmosphere was awkward.

Wilson sighed, looking at the doors, willing them to open. Every cell in his body thrummed with tension that was induced from being in such a confined space with House. Especially now that he wanted to ask what happened.

"I... don't like Kutner," House started. Wilson jumped with shock at the suddenness of his voice breaking the silence. House turned to him, fixing him with that odd look again. Wilson frowned back at him. "Never liked him, in fact."

Wilson scoffed, shaking his head. House was such a bullshitter. "Sure didn't seem that way when you were ogling his goodies." Wilson winced – he sounded like a jealous wife. Like one of his ex-wives. Christ, when did he start acting like he was married to House?

"'_Ogling _his _goodies_'?" House repeated, amused. Wilson shot him a blank look, and House sighed, turning serious once more. "It was... all a show. I was, well... I was trying to make you jealous."

It was one blurred together sentence, and House looked away right after he'd said it, a faint blush gracing his cheeks. Wilson's wide eyes bored into House – did he just hear what he think he heard?

"Make me jealous? Why would you try to do that?" he asked, bemused. Amused. That... was adorable. House going to such lengths... for him.

"Doesn't matter," House grumbled, looking down at the floor, where his cane tapped against his foot. "It obviously didn't work."

Wilson felt his face split in a smile – a large, bright smile that threatened to crack his skin. He hadn't smiled like that in years. House brought out the strangest, strongest emotions.

"House," Wilson murmured, trying to get his attention. House stared steadfastly at the floor, actually vulnerable. Wilson was the only one to ever see House vulnerable. It sometimes scared him, but it was just another part of House. Something he loved.

He loved House.

"House, I... look, look at me," Wilson commanded, trying to meet House's gaze, which he steadfastly avoided. Finally, Wilson sighed in annoyance, grabbed House's face in both hands, and turned it towards him. House's gaze fixed on his chin.

"I love you," Wilson murmured, and then, leaning in, kissed House square on the lips.

He'd dreamt of doing that. Wondered what it would feel like, how House would kiss, if the moment would be romantic.

House's lips were chapped, but moist, and pressed back against Wilson's just as firmly. Wilson's hands dropped from House's face, one curling around the back of his neck, the other arm wrapping around his waist. House's arms reached his shoulders, clinging to them as their lips moulded together in one of the most spine-tingling kisses Wilson had ever experienced.

They pulled back at the ding of the lift. The doors opened to an empty corridor, and Wilson stared at House. House stared back for a moment, before snorting.

"What, you want a medal? You're gonna have to do_ much_ better," he snapped. Wilson grinned and pulled him back in for a kiss as the lift doors closed again.

xX.XX.Xx

**And they lived manipulatively ever after.**

To all Kutner fanatics, sorry I made him out to be so pervy and strange in this story – he's not that bad, but this is from Wilson's POV, and he strongly dislikes Kutner, for obvious reasons :P

Hope you liked it, I enjoyed writing it, anyway. Surprisingly, there was not one point in this where I felt awkward and insecure (doesn't mean I think this story's perfect, by any stretch of the imagination. Just means I don't feel quite so panicky).

Hope you review, I'd love to know what you think.


End file.
